


a promise in the curve of his mouth

by wrennette



Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: F/F, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-15 20:05:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16070342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wrennette/pseuds/wrennette
Summary: Orin asks Ezra to help him with some court proceedings.





	a promise in the curve of his mouth

**Author's Note:**

> i've had this in my drafts for ages, and managed to finish it off since it was already so close to a stopping point. no beta, so any mistakes are my own. I know I've spelled Judge Travis' name differently than the tag, and don't intend to go back through and alter it at this point.

“You wished to see me your Honor?” Ezra asked, polite as ever, and Orrin smiled to himself. 

“Yes, I find I need a man of your - talents at my disposal for the next while,” Orrin said with a slight smile. And it was quite true. This land claim was complicated at best, and if there was anyone who could help him untangle it, it was Ezra Standish. The man in question gave a decidedly un-innocent smirk, gold tooth flashing at the vague compliment. That was the other nice thing. Obstinate as Ezra could be at times, he was also almost desperate to please those he esteemed, and Orrin found himself in the rather enviable position of being deeply respected by the former conman.

“You can familiarize yourself with the case while we remain here, but the actual hearings will be in Denver,” Orrin said. “You’ll be accompanying me there. I believe all my notes are here, as well as the evidence the constabulary has gathered.” He handed a thick folio to Ezra, who accepted it with an eager gleam in his pale eyes. Yes, Ezra did like a puzzle, a challenge, and the feeling of one-upmanship that came from breaking someone else’s con. “You’ll stay with me and Evie until we get on the train in a weeks time.”

Ezra nodded absently, already flicking through the file. _Boy would have made a damn fine lawyer_ , Orrin thought ruefully, then shook his head. _Hell, still might, peacekeeping won’t last forever, an’ I’d like to see those boys settled someplace other than the grave_. He turned the idea over in his mind. Ezra did have the skills needed for lawyering; he was tenacious, intelligent, and could talk a man around in circles without half trying. The trick would be getting him to think it was his own idea. A slow smile spread on Orrin’s face. He had a little time, and he was no intellectual slouch himself.

As Orrin had anticipated, Ezra charmed his wife within five minutes of meeting her, and she was soon fussing over him affectionately. It did Orrin good to see her so animated, so he only scolded her a little, and wasn’t able to keep the laugh from his voice as he did. He saw Ezra’s eyes sparking back at him, and hell if that didn’t wake a whole other set of emotions, things he hadn’t thought on since he was a young, hot blooded lieutenant. He pushed those feelings away, then excused himself for the night.

Rather to Orrin’s surprise, Ezra was at the table when he went down for his breakfast, reading the early paper and sipping at a fresh cup of coffee. They conversed over the newspaper, a much larger and more intellectual pursuit than the _Clarion_ , then walked off to Orrin’s offices, packed lunches tucked under their arms. Ezra was dressed rather more somberly than Orrin had seen him before, but Orrin couldn’t help but remember the spark of the night before, and think that the more sedate clothes suited him, gave him a certain substance and gravitas that was usually hidden behind his flash and charm.

Ezra worked away at the thick file he had been given, Orrin reading other documents and drafting reports to the territorial and federal governments. They took their lunch there in the office, but did break for a short turn around a nearby park. As they walked, they discussed both the case Orrin had set Ezra at and other cases Orrin was working, and Orrin was quite pleased to see his idea already bearing fruit as Ezra took to the conversation easily and with obvious enjoyment.

They worked until the light faded, and then returned to the Travis house. They had a brandy and then dinner, and then another brandy. They discussed politics and the goings on of the wider world, and Orrin found himself enjoying the conversation deeply, more than he had enjoyed an intellectual sparring match in some time. Each day after was somehow better than the one before, and by the time they were preparing to head to Denver, Orrin was honestly wondering how he had managed without Ezra at his side, to make him laugh and find his spectacles and tell him to take a break when he’d been reading the same damn paragraph for the last hour.

“I seem to be quite good at this,” Ezra said smugly as he settled into his seat on the train, fussing a bit with his cuffs. Orrin grinned and shook his head ruefully, knowing that one of those sleeves hid Ezra’s little pop-gun rig.

“Why do you think I requested you, and not one of the others?” Orrin asked rhetorically, and Ezra smirked up at him. 

“And here I thought it was because you wanted the best looking of us,” Ezra teased, and Orrin chuffed softly, shaking his head.

“Do you see Wilmington here?” Orrin teased back, and this had become familiar this past while, poking at one another and testing humor and understanding. Ezra huffed in return, and pretentiously rearranged himself, nose pointed firmly up into the air, arms folded over his chest. Orrin chuckled, and they shared the paper and some conversation, and when the paper had been read thoroughly through, Ezra produced a well worn edition of Virgil’s _Aeneid_ in the original Latin and began to read.

They ate lunch on the train, slept that night leaning together like toy soldiers as the track clattered away beneath them. The next afternoon they were in Denver, and they disembarked sleepy eyed and rumpled. Orrin checked them into the hotel he usually stayed at there, and then called for a bath. He insisted Ezra bathe first, and when the hot water arrived, Ezra sank into it with a blissful sigh that roused all sorts of troublesome thoughts and feelings. Orrin resolutely puttered about, settling in as Ezra washed up. 

“Your turn your Honor,” Ezra said, wrapped in a towel that had seen better days and clung tenaciously to his slender hips. 

“Thank you,” Orrin said, voice lower than usual, rough. He swallowed thickly and schooled his traitorous flesh, then stalked to the tub and stripped himself. By the time he was finished, Ezra was dressed again, again in one of his more sombre outfits. Orrin had become almost used to this mode of dress, and favored it if only because he was jealous of every admiring glance Ezra received. Once Orrin was dressed, they descended to the hotel restaurant for dinner.

“Feel free to find yourself a game,” Orrin urged when they finished. “I’m going to turn in, but as long as you’re up for breakfast at eight, your time is your own when court isn’t in session.”

“No, I find myself weary from our travels,” Ezra said. “I would not be able to bend my mind properly to a game, and would suffer equally for the effort in the morning. Best I turn in as well. Although - if, if you could be enticed, I noticed a chess set in the parlor if a match would suit?” Orrin grinned at that.

“That would be more than agreeable,” Orrin said, then called for the check and had it charged to their room. Ezra smiled, and they retired to the parlor for a game of chess and a night cap. Orrin found himself much distracted as they played, his attention on Ezra’s well formed fingers rather than the pieces they moved. He watched Ezra’s face as he thought over his moves, savoring the minute twitches in the fine musculature as Ezra furrowed his brow in concentration or thumbed his full lower lip.

They were in the city for a few weeks, Ezra sitting in the courtroom each day and then discussing the cases with Orrin each night. They took all their meals together, and some nights Ezra went off for a few rounds of cards in the many and varied saloons, but he was never out too late, or came back to their room smelling too strongly of drink. He never smelled of perfume or sex either, despite that Orrin might have expected him to visit one or two of the sporting houses. Finally though, the panel entered deliberations, and they could only wait for the outcome. Their time in Denver was nearly at the end.

The Judge called Ezra to himself with a look, then led the way back to the offices he had been provided with at the territorial courthouse. The door clicked quietly closed behind Ezra, and Orrin sat, indicating for Ezra to do the same. Ezra poured for them, then settled, glancing over his notes before looking back up. Orrin smiled warmly, taking the offered drink.

“You’ve been a credit to me these past weeks,” Orrin said, still smiling, trying to find the words for how dear Ezra had become to him. Ezra preened slightly, smiling in reply and raising his glass.

“I have enjoyed it,” Ezra admitted. “There isn’t much call for intellectual strain in my regular employment.”

“You would make a very good lawyer,” Orrin went on, fidgeting with his glass. “I - I should like to offer you the chance to take it up, if you should like.” 

“Your Honor?” Ezra asked gently, fingertips reaching out to rest delicate on Orrin’s sleeve, and Orrin cursed himself for being eight types of a fool. “You really - you would want me to take up the law?”

“I would,” Orrin said gruffly. “I’m not so naive as to think that the town will accept the presence of six mercenaries forever. As you have written more than once, it is becoming more respectable by the day. Do you - would you prefer returning to the life you once had? Taking advantage of those you were able to and being shunned by those who saw through your charm?” Ezra, rather than sniping back as had become friendly habit over the past week, blushed heatedly. 

“No, I suppose when you put it like that,” Ezra murmured, dropping his eyes to the floor, face still spotted with shame. 

“Ah, Ezra,” Orrin sighed, knowing he had hurt the younger man. He stood and rounded the desk, dropping his hand onto Ezra’s broad shoulder. “I - “

“No,” Ezra cut in. “You meant it, and you were right. And I - I don’t think I should like to go back to that. I suppose - I’ve been a little naive myself, and willfully so.” He reached up, laying his fingers over the judge’s where they rested on his shoulder. “I don’t like to, but I suppose I must thank you,” Ezra mused, twisting slightly to look up at Orrin. Orrin fought off a flush of his own, unconsciously squeezing Ezra’s shoulder, and utterly unable to completely hide his soft feelings. “Your Honor,” Ezra murmured softly, almost lifting his hand away but then letting it remain.

“It’s nothing Ezra,” Orrin said gruffly, but Ezra didn’t remove his hand. He instead took stronger hold of Orrin, linking their fingers together on his shoulder.

“I - I’m flattered,” Ezra said softly. “You - you wouldn’t be the first man to find me attractive.”

“Nothing will come of it,” Orrin promised gruffly.

“Not even if I wanted something to come of it?” Ezra asked gently, and Orrin swayed, feeling as though all the blood in his body had just left his body through the soles of his feet. “I’m not saying I do,” Ezra hedged. “But a man, well, a man learns many things when he joins the army and goes to war, and then heads off into the wilderness.” Orrin nodded dumbly, not quite sure what he was agreeing with. “But this is a conversation I believe, for another time and place,” Ezra decided, and Orrin nodded again, almost roughly taking his hand back and going back to his chair.

The next day Ezra went out and did some shopping while the panel argued amongst themselves. Orrin worked at other cases, trying not to think of Ezra, trying not to remember the softness in the smaller man’s eyes. He couldn’t police his mind entirely though, and thoughts of Ezra crept in at the edges. Sometimes they were just harmless little wonderings on what Ezra’s opinion on this matter or that might be. But other times Orrin’s mind recalled the light in Ezra’s eyes and the softness of his hands, the gleam of lamplight in his russet hair and the dimple of his cheek when he was pleased.

“Orrin,” Ezra greeted him when he entered the hotel restaurant that night. Orrin stood, swallowing thickly. Ezra wasn’t wearing the sedate suits Orrin had almost become accustomed to. It wasn’t the colorful finery of a gentleman gambler either. Neat black trousers, and tucked into them a crisp white shirt with the intermittent sheen of tonal silk striping the cotton. A soft silver waistcoat of gleaming satin brocade, and a rich frock coat a few shades darker, charcoal wool with a black velvet collar. 

“Ezra,” Orrin greeted in reply, and knew his tone had gone sultry with desire. But Ezra’s eyes flared at him, and the younger man sat fluidly, a promise in the curve of his mouth.


End file.
